"I avoid people now. I outweigh the consequences of my personal isolation over the stupidity of people. Isolation wins". –Morgan Leigh R.

Greetings. My name is Salek.

Pairing: 2D x eventual Noodle

I do NOT own Gorillaz , their album Plastic Beach or Fedora hats. I also do not have money. Suing would be a big failure on your part.

"FACE-ACHE"!

2D's heart dropped into his stomach when he heard the bloody nickname his kidnapper had given him echo loudly through the lift doors. He sat cross legged in the middle of his bedroom, keyboard in lap. A fag dangled out of his tight lipped mouth, wisps of smoke disappearing in the stale air before him. Right away, he noticed the murderous look on Murdoc's face as the door opened. Murdoc was obviously very angry, his eyes looked more red than usual and a snarl was plastered across his face. Murdoc stalked into the singer's room, stepping purposely on the music sheets that were lying in front of 2D and pointed a long skeletal finger at the younger man.

"What did you do with my fedora"? The green tinted man hissed, spittle flying into the singer's face as he did. Murdoc reeked of alcohol and really bad body odor. It was smell 2D could never really get over.

2D honestly had no idea what was going on. A look of confusion than fear mixed with a tinge of anger swept across his face as he realized a fucking fedora could possibly cause his next bout of punishment. Although he was annoyed, he was more afraid of Murdoc than anything else. Ever the skittish lad, he retreated backwards from the Satanist. His keyboard fell out of his lap as he pushed his back against his bed and drew his knees up to his chest in case Murdoc decided to do something irrational. Murdoc, angry or not, liked torturing 2 Dents.

"I never touched your fedora Muds. Honest! I haven't been out of my room in two days".

2D remembered Murdoc wearing his fedora in the study when he had last adventured out of his bedroom. "I do remember your fedora when I popped into the study the other morning. You were wearing it"!

He disliked being accused of stealing. It was not in his nature and Murdoc should know that after years of "dealing" with the sniveling 2D. Realizing the cigarette was still in his mouth; the singer took a long drag and savored the burning sensation in his lungs. He exhaled, watching the curling smoke. Five seconds of peace with his nicotine, a lifetime of breathing problems. Such is life.

Murdoc growled viciously, not satisfied with 2D's answer but he believed his story enough to back off. He stepped back and looked about the poorly lit room, expecting his beloved hat to pop up out of thin air. "It would not waltz off on its own and obviously I am enlisting you to find the damn thing. It's my fav'rit hat, face-ache"!

2D put his fag out on the sole of his boot. He flicked the butt off into a dark corner and stood up, nervously looking behind him for the devil whale peeking through his window. Being outside was better than dealing with that damn mammal. He brought his gaze back to the bassist. "Okay, okay! Where do you want me to start looking"?

"Start with the bloody entrance and the jetty. You WILL look until you find it. No rest. No food. GOT IT? And don't even think about trying to find an escape route. The Cyborg will throw you to the whale". Murdoc, in all of his hate for 2D, spat at his boots and turned back to the lift, ignoring the other man attempting to follow him. The lift door slid closed in 2D's face.

The blunette sighed and hit his forehead against the door, frustrated and lonely. If there truly was a God, why in the hell did He let Stuart Pot cross paths with the likes of Murdoc Niccals, a Satanist, of all people? When Murdoc crashed into the Keyboard Emporium that fateful day so many years ago, the bastard drastically altered the life of Stuart Pot without so much as an apology.

It was almost like a marriage in concourse; a nonsensical union that should have ended years ago after the second car accident caused 2D to return from his catatonic state. Ironically, it did not work that way. Without Murdoc, 2D would not be where he was today career-wise. He most likely would be married to some poor lass, working with his father or attending University or summfink to that degree. 2D may love Gorillaz but it did not mean he was happy with his life. Nor did he have to gracefully thank Murdoc for any of this ridiculousness called fame and fortune. He's done more damage to 2D's life than anything. And to think he used to idolize the green skinned ogre for "saving his life"! How laughable. It took 2D a very long time to realize exactly what Murdoc had done to him and very little time to lose all respect for the bassist.

Maybe it was a test of some sorts? Apparently, he was put on Earth to cater to the green bastard… Maybe God would take pity on his soul and let him into Heaven when he finally killed over. 2D chuckled miserably at the preposterous idea. Highly unlikely, he thought. He may be dim witted but he knew very well that he has sinned enough in the infamous Gorillaz to enjoy a one way ticket to hell, no doubt.

A grim smile was set on his face as he pulled out his pill container and played with its cap, knowing quite well there was nothing in there. He thankfully kicked that habit awhile ago even though he did still get migraines. He kept the container to remind himself that he will never quite be out of the boat. Once an addict, always an addict…or so the saying goes.

Taking his anger out on the poor lift button, he smashed his finger into it with a vengeance and in the process hurt him-self. 2D winced, letting out an audible yelp before sucking on his sore fingertip. He had a headache before Murdoc came down to harass him but it was one thousand times worse …no, one thousand and one times worse now that he jammed his finger.

2D hummed to himself as he stepped onto the lift. At least he could leave the room freely. Now it is just a matter of finding the hat fast enough to satisfy that git. Lighting up another cigarette, his eyes flashed to the small window fading out of his sight. The whale had moved in front of the window and was staring at him. The door closed and the lift began moving up. He decided after that very brief encounter making eye contact with that…thing… to take his time searching.

"Bloody fedora".

A/N:

Okay, considering I have not written fan fiction in a very long time and am still picking up bits and pieces of information on the characters, let it be known that if anything is out of character, well…I don't apologize. It's my story so I can do as I wish although I do like to keep everyone in character as much as possible. If something is ABSOLUTELY bothering you about the way the character acts or says anything, Private message me. I will fix it to the best of my ability.

If you liked the chapter, please do me the kind favor of reviewing/adding me to your favorite's lists, etc. There is more coming to this story but only if I know it is worth continuing. I had that problem with several stories. Why write if no one will read?

During my reclusion, I have grown to love the new Gorillaz album, Plastic Beach. I remember watching the Clint Eastwood video when I was about thirteen years old and would plaster my eyes to the screen in awe. Thankfully, I do not watch television any longer. It is not worth my time and effort considering all there is anymore is brain rotting reality television, and constant noise of war and the U.S economy's lovely state. The internet is not any better but I digress! With the way I have become disgusted with mankind, it has given me something to focus on besides the drama that follows everyone of us: Writing. I have a tattoo on my back that says, "Art is War" and it could not be more true to my current state of mind.

Hope you enjoyed the first chapter.

Salek